


Phil's R

by Clarizaya



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Depression, Implied/Referenced Bullying, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Phil is troubled, Suicidal Thoughts, everyon's sad, i tried to make it emotional, inspired by My R, it's Phil Lester through the years, phil's trying to fix everything, why's no one fixing phil tho?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:31:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9391085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarizaya/pseuds/Clarizaya
Summary: this is the story of Phil Lester, a man trying to find his place in life. But the path to happiness isn't always an easy one and so he finds himself and the edge of life a lot of times... literally. But maybe pulling people back to the ground could be what makes him stay as well.Or: the multi-chapter  where Phil is constantly trying to jump of roofs only to teach and be taught that maybe life isn't all that bad.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is heavily inspired by My R, which you should listen to and I recommend the version Rachie covered.  
> I just love Phil too much and i loved the song and together it morphed into this which probably isn't the greatest work but I really wanted to have more Phil-centered fics.

Phil wasn't the fittest of people, so a six-story high staircase was a task on its own for him to accomplish. Though today he'd like to partly blame his sweatstains on the anxious feeling in his throat, that threatened to suffocate him since he woke up.

No matter how often he tried to breath through it, to count from one to ten and back to one. It never seemed to reach his lungs.

Not that it mattered much longer anyways...

He proof-read his letter over ten times at least, checked every post to be timed perfectly. Heck, he never recorded a better litten video in his life.

Phil reached the fourth floor. Under shaking knees and cold sweat while his tummy tried stretching itself out of his body, back to the first floor, where a broken bone would be his biggest fear. Two to go, Phil thought to himself but the words started fading in his mind. Maybe the door woke them, did I even try to be descreet shutting it?

He knew he hadn't.

Again Phil tried to catch his breath, his hands finding the metal handrail for support. They had no grip, sweat taking out every strength they could have offered.

No, this is right... He tried to pull himself to the next flight of stairs, his hands greasing the former cold material. It's a decision he made already years ago, when he realized that the gloomy feeling that could strike at any time wasn't leaving, but rather lurking. Not for any moment in particular, not even for him to feel safe and happy enough to ruin his day out of spite.

No, his personal cloud would show itself at random times and in the vaguest of shapes. Sudden, overwhelming sadness while he sat on the floor of his room after losing himself in his thoughts for a minute too long, rather than chatting with the camera about what he did on the weekend like he planned to do. That video never saw the light of day. Or a small whipser in the back of his mind that would agree with the time his mom told him to stop drawing, because it was childish and a waste of paper, even though he really enjoyed it. It had been over two years since he last attempted to draw sincerely.

Phil sighed. Yea, he reminded himself, it only keeps adding up.

 

He discovered it a little over four months ago. The apartment building he used to come to, usually to tutor the boy from 3B.

Phil knew that he moved into town shortly before his grades started to drop. The boy however, he never seemed too down about it. Maybe it was his overflowing mind. After his first lesson Phil could already tell that his student's thoughts were brighter than most british days. His grammar notes would always be covered in ink-blue galaxies or robot designs, that could come straight out of an anime. No wonder the kid couldn't study on his own, even Phil himself would lose track of the english language when the milkyway was just asking for new additions.

When Phil commented on how accurate his drawings were, the boy would practically jump of his chair to show him even more of his sketches, succesfully escaping his tutoring for that evening.

"You see", he began while he skipping through one of the folders he kept his artwork in "I watch too much anime to suck at drawing it. Same goes for space." That got Phil curious, and when he invited his teacher to watch the stars together, it was a sealed deal.

"It's always unlocked." He said after pushing through the door effortlessly. "The whole building is a non-smoking area, but our neighbours still sneak up here to get their fix." The younger one laughed. It got them talking, about smoking and space and god and the world and even though Phil was supposed to teach him how to use the past tense correctly, he ended up being taught about how the skin of your feet peels of in space (apparently the skin softenes and starts to flake off when you don't use your feet for a while). He learned that the boy was nearly four years younger than Phil, that his dream was to direct his own movie some day and that he thought that he could write a better first star wars episode in his sleep. Phil got paid by the hour, but he never cashed in the three and a half hours they spent lying on the roof.

The boy's mom stopped calling Phil around five weeks ago when her son's grades got back ot the average that he could hold up himself with a little extra cramming on the weekends. 

Phil was proud of him anyways. Proud and the tiniest bit smug.

Maybe less over his well-done job and more over the fact that there was an unlocked rooftop with his name on the doorknob.

**Author's Note:**

> message or comment what you think of it so far and i'll try to make time to write further and MAYbe we'll discover who Phil's student was  
> stay happy


End file.
